Fragments Of Life
by SinsRose
Summary: Sometimes the lines bewteen what was once lust is blurred. Sometimes it just hurts. Drabble Collection. Criss Angel/Tommy Ratliff. Slash.
1. Lust

_No names being named._

_Lust_

His fingers are lightweight against the fabric. He moves his blonde hair from his eyes staring back up at mirrored chocolate eyes. Fingers brush against skin. His breathing is heavy, he bends over to nip softly at the bassist's neck sucking, the bassist moans softly. The other blonde pulls away, from the abused skin, his eyes a clouded lust. "Pretty little thing." He whispers his lips touching black lipstick.

His eyes are a dark chocolate color, pure lust. The tanner fingers are tangled in the bassist's hair. He's panting softly and the bassist looks so pretty, flushed and wanton under his light grip. Wanton, slutty, sexy, it's all the same to him. His pale pink lips smear the black lipstick as he kisses him hard, the bassist's fingers pulling at his hair. He lets out almost a low animalistic sound, a moan.

The bassist is arching against the sheets moaning like a bitch in heat, the pale pink lips trailing down to kiss the pink buds of his nipples. His fingers are like glass gliding across them, and he writhers under the blonde as he bites down and sucks on a nipple."So pretty." He whispers against the flesh the heat racing though his bones, it feels hot. It makes him feel alive.

_Lust_. He hasn't felt it in a long time. A very long time. The arousal is heavy in the air, it smells like sex. Heavy sex, the blonde bassist moans louder as he thrusts against him, their naked bodies becoming heavy with sweat. "Fuck." The bassist whimpers, he tugs on his hair and the mirrored chocolate eyes darken.

There's another heavy kiss laced with the promise of sex or something of its kind. Bite marks are scattered down the bassist's neck, red, markings of lust. Pure lust. The other blonde takes the bassist's small hips in his hands and holds them, his fingers pressing against his hole. "Ah…_Fuck._" The bassist moans his fingers tightening in the sheets.

There's a devilish smirk on the other blonde's face and, his finger slips in effortlessly. The bassist writhers against the sheets and is panting at the sensations. "_Fuck._" He whimpers. "_Fuck."_He moans, as he fits another finger into him. He can't even remember the other blonde's name, he so far into the lust.

He can feel the coils of the fire begin to burn as his fingers pull out from stretching him. The bassist whimpers as he feels his cock slide in and he wraps his legs around the other blonde moaning loudly. The blonde latches against his neck biting down hard, sucking. It creates a bright red mark that will later be a bruise from this. "_Fuck,_ You're _tight._"The blonde hisses and the bassist moans in response on the edge.

He doesn't even realize when he comes, a mess on the sheets, it slides down his chest hot and he doesn't care. It just feels so good; the other blonde begins to dress, slipping his things on quietly. The bassist is drifting into a deep sleep, heavy from sex, but before he slips into his dreams he feels a light peck to his forehead. "You're pretty cute." Is the last thing he hears, and then falls into the darkness of peaceful undisturbed sleep.


	2. Morning After

_Morning After_

He wakes up the next morning, his head pounding. He can't remember anything from last night. _Well not too much. It's blurred._ His pale fingers touch the side of his neck and the bassist winces, it feels like a bruise. _More like a hickey._ He swallows, he can't remember a name, and nothing gives a hint to who it was. It feels heavy on his skin and he gets off the bed, and feels it crunch against his skin, his cum. His hands brush against the dried liquid and he swallows hard.

_What had happened last night?_ He goes to his phone, which he finds is turned off. Which is odd he never turns off his phone. He turns it back on and at once he sees missed calls from Adam, no surprises they had been in a relationship during Glamnation and it had ended badly. But when he sees the missed calls from Mia he frowns a lot, he _never _misses _her calls._

Before calling her, he takes a shower and tries not to focus on the mark, hell he can't even remember if it was a female or male that fucked him or something, not to mention the fact he came to Vegas with Mia. When he calls her phone he can hear her scramble to pick up her phone even if she in a hotel room. Then he realizes he's not even in his own hotel room but another person's and by the look of it there filthy rich.

"_Tommy Joe,_ Where the _hell_ are you?" She hisses into the phone and he winces, feeling a headache.

"I have no fucking idea Mia. I'm, in some hotel in Vegas." He answers a little dry.

"How can you not know what hotel you're at? More importantly why aren't you in your own room?" She almost yells and I don't have an answer.

"I think I got fucked by someone." The bassist can now feel the heavy throbbing of his ass.

"Oh _Adam _is going to_ love _you_ even more _for_ that._" She hisses.

"Mia we broke up after the _fucking tour_!" Tommy hisses at her hanging up the phone, his headache throbbing.

Fingers touch Tommy's skin and he jumps out of his skin at the contact, it tingles. His chocolate eyes meet amused hazel. The blonde in front of his eyes seems similar, the blonde and slightly black hair. He's wearing a vest on the upper half of his body and the word affliction is written on it. He's wearing simple skinny jeans, no eyeliner which isn't a surprise to Tommy.

His fingers skin over the bite mark on Tommy's neck, his fingers lingering on the purple bruise and Tommy shivers. _No. No. No. It wasn't…_ "Well, it seems we have a situation here..."His voice is a quite one, and all of this makes Tommy a little worried."Your name?" The blonde inquiries.

"Tommy."He says simply. "Yours?"

"Just call me Nicholas." Nicholas's voice seems to pause, as if curious. "For the record, this never happened. You can either pretend it didn't or live with it. You need any cover up from the media, you have my number. Now get." His voice is heavy with regret.

Tommy doesn't have a second to speak and everything clicks as he's shoved out the door.

He just slept with Criss Angel, one of the world's most wide known illusionists. How the fuck was he ever going to explain this to Adam?


End file.
